


The Road Back

by PrincessAmericaChavez



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Basically a lot of speculating, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Gen, Post-Season/Series 02, Shiro (Voltron)-centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-04 22:20:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11564490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessAmericaChavez/pseuds/PrincessAmericaChavez
Summary: Shiro is lost somewhere across the universe, with no connection to the Black Lion or way to contact the other paladins, but he's seen worse and he'll be damned if he lets anything stop him in his way back home.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about how this could go down and just like a week and a half before s2 starts so here goes my attempt for a quick idea of how it could go down.

He's lost count of how many times he thought it was the end, that he'd never wake up again, that he'd never see his friends or family again, that somewhere in the deep coldness of space he'd be lost forever. Nonetheless, every single time, he keeps waking up. At times, it feels like both a blessing and a curse. He has faint memories of his time with the Galra, waking up and damming his luck for it, wishing this time had once and for all been the end; they intersect with other memories, though, more recent, when despite the pain and exhaustion he was thankful for waking up, because he was needed. The end was not a choice when his team needed him. So every single time, Shiro keeps waking up.

This time, when he wakes up, he almost wishes he didn't..

The first thing he's aware of is the lights around him, bright and purple. The second thing he notices is the way his arms and legs are bound to the table he's laying on. Those two facts are enough to make his heart run wild, until it almost feels like it's going to break out of his chest. Fear courses through his veins, poisonous and cold, and for a second he's the same lost child the Galra kidnapped and tortured and toyed with. Everything is recent: every fight, every wound, every sleepless night and horrifying day. It all washes over him like he's inside a river, drowning in overwhelming memories that he can't quite recognize, aside form the piercingly clear horror that taints them, that one he recognizes like an old friend. 

It lasts a couple seconds that feel like an eternity, as he drowns inside his own mind like a corner animal, but something else pierces through the haze of it. It's like a light in the most absolute darkness, but inside his chest it feels more like a  _roar._ Like a lion inside him, refusing to be cornered by fear. The Black Lion. The realization hits him and it's clearer than the hazy memories threatening to take him down. He's not a prisoner. He's not the Champion. He's the Black Paladin. He'll be damned if he lets himself be Zarkon's play thing again, not when the others need him. 

Cold fear turns into hot rage in his veins, burns past the fear and confusion and exhaustion and finds its way to his metal hand. His fingers light up, hot and powerful and purple like the lights around him. With a roar of his own, he tears his arm free from one of the metal cuffs binding him, then tears off the others violently until he's free to move. He sits up and finds himself in an empty room, chemicals and monitors all around him. Another goddamn lab. His mind flies to Haggar but he pushes the terrifying idea to the back of his brain for now. She's not here to stop him and he's not planning to stay around waiting for her.

He jumps of the bed and needs a moment to stop swaying. He feels lightheaded and exhausted, but pushes through it as he makes his way to the door. No time for this. He needs to find the others, make sure they are alright. If they were captured too- His mind conjures visions of his friends dressed in slave clothes, pushed to the ring to fight for their lives, terrified and alone, hurt and experimented on like him.  _No._ No, he won't allow that. Anger flares up in him just as the door of the room opens. 

Two guards. Is that it? Shiro almost feels insulted. Didn't they know who they're dealing with?

He takes them out in what feels like a blink. It's almost too easy and he's afraid to admit his anger is making him bloodthirsty, but there's no time for that. He runs down the hallway, trying to find a way out. This ship looks nothing like the ones he remembers —as far as he knows—, but it can't be  _that_ different. Somewhere, there has to be an escape pod. He  _has_ to get out and find the others. 

Five more guards block his path.  _That's more like it,_ whispers an angry and thirsty voice in the back of his mind. He ignores it and gets to work. One knee to the chest sends a guard down, a round kick straight for the head sends another one tumbling to the floor. His still glowing hand cuts through two spears and he elbows and punches his way past two more guards. He's not lethal, not exactly —no matter how much that Champion voice in his head claims for it—; he's got no time to lose with them right now. 

He's about to punch his way through the last guy when the unthinkable happened —and here he thought the universe had no more surprises in store for him. Instead of attacking, the soldier swiftly removes their helmet, revealing Matt. 

Matt Holt.

"Shiro, stop!" He screams.

He does. Barely in time. His Galra arm shone inches away from a surprisingly unflinching Matt. The fire in him died down at the same time his arm powered down.

"...Matt?" He grabs his shoulders tightly, shushing away the voice that whispers this can't be real, it has to be a trap, a mind game. Except, it isn't. He can feel Matt's slender shoulders and shaky breathing. He's here. He's  _alive._ "Matt!"

A smile breaks across Shiro's face as joy grows in his chest, bright and powerful and overwhelming. Happiness shakes his bones like a hurricane as he wraps the older Holt sibling in a tight hug. Matt hugs him back and he presses his head against the crook of his neck. He can feel a piece of himself —young and adventurous and naive and unbroken— almost settling back into place. Almost. Something else is there, at his very core, like a flame that refuses to die down. 

 _You're not save. Matt's not save either,_ he can feel something whisper in his bones. 

Shit. 

"We need to move. We need to get out of here," he says suddenly, breaking the hug. 

"Wait, Shiro-"

He can't wait. They can't take any risks right now. He grabs Matt's arm and pulls him along down the hallway. If Matt struggles in his hold or tries to talk him out of it, Shiro doesn't notice. He's laser focused, more than ever, on getting them out. He has to protect his friend, even when they take the wrong turn and find themselves surrounded by enemies. They scream at him and he thinks it isn't Galra but he has no way of knowing for sure, he has no time to bother with it. 

A trapped animal again, Shiro tries to shield Matt with his own body, breathing heavily and bearing his teeth. He's not any animal, though, he's a lion and they are going to regret cornering him. His arm burns with the same anger his veins do and he launches forward after them. 

"Wait!" Matt gets on the way, Shiro barely dodges him. "Wait! Stop! Everyone!"

It takes him a long moment to realize Matt's not talking  _only_ to him. Confused, he sees his friend talk loudly, gesturing for the guards to put down their arms.

"What are you doing? Matt. Get out of the way," her orders, like he would any other paladin, but unlike them the boy doesn't take his command. Instead, he gets a defiant look on return. Pidge. It reminds him of Pidge. That's what finally makes him put his arm down, even if the tension stays in his muscles, ready to get back to fighting any second. 

"We are safe, Shiro. It's alright," Matt says, but his words are not entirely registering in his brain. "You're safe here, I promise." 

The angry voice in the back of his head scoffs at the idea. He's not safe. He's never been safe, not even with the others, not even on Earth.

"Shiro, you're not alright," Matt keeps talking, though his voice is tinted by something different. Fear. Matt is afraid. "You need to stop before you hurt yourself."

"We can't- The Galra-"

"They are not here, I promise. Listen. You trust me, right?"

Big eyes stare at him and he thinks of Pidge and of Keith and he hopes they are okay. Matt looks like them. He needs to protect Matt, but his mind is turning into a blur. The cold fear in his bones battles the hot anger in his veins, and somewhere in between their struggle a quiet voice of reason —that sounds remarkably like Hunk— tells him to believe his friend. His arm powers down and, just as it does, he loses what little control he had over his body. Pain and exhaustion overtake him all at once and he blacks out.

As he sinks deeper and deeper into the darkness, he can faintly hear someone calling for him. His team. He has to find his team.


	2. Frequently Rambled Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lost of explaining is due between Shiro and Matt but only some of it gets done for now.

The second time Shiro wakes up it's considerably less violent. For once, he's not tied down like a prisoner, he's also in a softer bed and over his head the lights are less Garla-purple. What really makes the difference, though, is the hand that softly presses against his chest as soon as his eyes open. 

"Hey. You're okay. Don't freak out."

Those are weird words to wake up to. 

"I don't freak out," he replies evenly, an annoyed frown on his face. He receives a dry snort on return. That makes him finally blink up and process _who_ he's talking to. "Matt?!"

He sits up, despite the others protests. He can feel him trying to push Shiro back down on the bed but it's pointless. He doesn't relent. He needs to see him. 

"You're alive," he sighs, once again feeling the weight in his chest melt. "I thought-"

He can't bring himself to finish the sentence, because, even now, admitting it out loud seems to horrible to handle. 

"I could say the same thing," Matt replies, and even behind that half smile Shiro can recognize a pain all too familiar. He pulls Matt into a hug. His embrace is not quite as desperate as the first one had been, but still rather out there in comparison to the limited contact they had shared in their way to Kerberos. Shiro could care less, though. Matt is alive. He found him. He-

"How?" He asks, pulling back, blinking at Matt like he's the most imposible thing he has seen in this crazy two years of space travel. "When? Where- Where are we? What's going on? Where are the others?"

Matt seems about to answer calmly, but that last question makes him trip a little. "The others?" He asks, arching an eyebrow. 

"The paladins?"

He only receives a confused look in return. Damn. He doesn't know. But that means-

"How did I end up here?"

"I was hoping you could tell me," Matt admits, brushing a hand over bushy brown hair. "We just found you?"

"You found me?" Shiro repeats, confused. 

Matt nods, almost solemnly. "You appeared close to the base a few days ago. I almost didn't recognize you, but then... and they kept talking all this magic stuff about your quintezense being too low and shit they almost sounded like you where running out of life energy or whatever... they've been helping me keep you alive..."

Shiro can barely focus on what Matt is saying past the first sentence. 

"Days?! I've been out of it for days?! I have to find the others..."

If his energy was that low, the others might be in the same position too, maybe without someone to help. They need him and he has been sleeping it off god knows where. 

"Slow down, slow down," Matt says, jumping to his feet when Shiro starts trying to get up. "First we need to figure out what's wrong with you. What happened to you?"

"Zarkon." He says the word absently but catches Matt tense at the mention of the name. "We were fighting him, then I-"

"Wait. Wait. Wait. You're telling me you were fighting Zarkon? Like, Emperor Zarkon? In the arena?"

"What? No! He was-" Giant. He really has no way to express that without sounding insane. "We were inside a ship. Sort of. We were piloting Voltron."

"Vol-" Matt blinks, mid-thought. "Wait. _The_ Voltron?!"

Shiro nods. 

"You gotta be kidding me! That's like a myth or something! It's not really-"

"It's real, Matt. Voltron is real. I'm one of its paladins," Shiro says and the words come with an unprecedented calm to his voice. If there is one thing he is certain of, now more than ever, is his position in this war. 

His friend only gaps at him with astonishment. Suddenly self conscious, Shiro brushes his fingers through his hair. He doesn't miss the way Matt's eyes track his metal arm. He can't tell if that is a look of curiosity or fear on his face, but he doesn't like it either way. Quickly, he retreats the limb to his lap. 

"How? I mean, Shiro, what happened to you?"

"It's a long story," he deflects, because something about that question puts him on edge. He can see that Matt is talking about his time as a prisoner just as much as his time with Voltron. 

"We have time," Matt pushes on. Just like Pidge, his resolve is relentless. "No one will find you here. It's safe."

"Not for the universe. Not for the others," Shiro insists, slowly getting on his feet. "If Zarkon isn't defeated... I need to know. I need to help them. Besides, they need to know I'm alright or your sister will kill me when she-"

"My sister?!" Matt's voice grows high pitched and he grabs Shiro by the shoulders with a lot less care than he'd handled him so far. "Are you saying- is Katie...?"

_Well. Shit._


End file.
